


Winter in F Minor

by hardlyawake



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Apocalypse averted, Character Study that turned into Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Good Sibling Diego Hargreeves, No Incest, Snowball Fights, Vanya Being Talented, traumatized siblings making up for all the shit they never got to do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23148187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardlyawake/pseuds/hardlyawake
Summary: The Hargreeves kids think about their nostalgia for their childhood home, grappling with all the bad shit that happened there. Diego regrets his distance from Vanya and her music, and spites Reginald's old rules in the form of a snowball fight. Allison and Klaus are the unfortunate victims that get roped into the middle of it. There's cocoa, banter, and as close to "making up" for the past as this emotionally stunted family gets.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 16
Kudos: 115





	Winter in F Minor

The Hargreeves manor is soaked to its core with grief-stricken memories, secrets, and poorly-covered abuses from years past. Every wall, every window, every wooden floorboard has been touched by a crying child or thrown weapon. Childhood memories of learning to bike and play tag are tinged with the blood and bitterness of the Umbrella Academy. The Hargreeves siblings cannot trade one for the other; there is no erasing the intrinsic traumas of their childhood. None of them wish for it, as traitorous as it seems. For all the countless times Vanya hid beneath her covers rocking herself to sleep as arguments raged outside, there are double the countless times she stayed up devouring a new book or practicing a new chord ever so quietly.

When she walks by her childhood bedroom, she does not remember one or the other. She fondly thumbs over the pages of a well-loved Harry Potter book from her shelf. In the margins are pencil annotations of a thirteen-year old Vanya, smileys and excitement that make adult Vanya grin. She feels a similar nostalgia for the creases in her twin mattress, worn there by years of curled-up crying at the wee hours of night. In the back of her mind, she thinks perhaps she shouldn’t feel like that.

Diego’s room is the house’s shining achievement; the 30-square-foot setting of hundreds of fights and breakdowns. He can see the dents in the wall from tousles with Luther; scratches and knife marks on the ceiling from pent up anger; the place where his father had pinned him up against the door and cursed him out after a particularly miserable training session. There were no marks from that last event, only the bitter memory as strong as ever.  
  


His bed isn’t like that. That’s where he and Ben used to sit and talk about baseball, their niche shared interest over the years. Or where he’d secretly comfort Klaus after a traumatizing night in the mausoleum. _Klaus used to come to him for comfort_ , he remembers fondly. _Until he was twelve, almost._ That must’ve been right around when the drug habit started.  
  


Maybe hugging his crying brother shouldn’t be a fond memory. It’s not...happy, per say. So then why does a part of him miss it?   
  


His room has a small window. Cheap metal blinds coated in dust; their rooms truly hadn’t been touched since their departures. Diego crosses the room and pulls the blinds up, thinking if his room had to be dark and dingy for the years he lived here, at least it won’t be anymore.  
  


Proportionate to the window, a modest amount of light fills the room. To Diego’s surprise, it’s a stunning white outside. A snowstorm in February, soft and steadily piling up on the ground below.   
  


Just as soft is the sound of violin a few rooms over; one line in a symphony, delicate and high-pitched. He returns to his door and opens it up again, letting the sound pour in.   
  


There’s one thing he’s not as familiar with. He can count on one hand the number of times he’d heard Vanya play through an entire solo. He knew she was always practicing as a kid, obviously. What else did she have to do, with their dad’s attention constantly on everyone else? But Diego had spent most of his time in training, on missions, or playing with the other siblings, when given the chance.  
  


Vanya was never a part of those games of tag, or hide-and-seek. Diego promptly decided that if he tried to remember every time they’d left Vanya alone, he’d get overwhelmingly depressed. He just knew there were many, many times, and that’s when Vanya must have been practicing.

He returns to the window for some distraction, eyes once again on the gentle snowfall. _She sounds good, now_ , he thinks. She was always dedicated, but Diego hadn’t heard her play in years. She isn’t a cautious or frustrated teenager anymore. Well, at least not when it comes to the violin. She’s certain and fast and melodic, and classical is the last thing Diego would listen to in his free time, but at present he can’t think of anything he’s heard that’s more beautiful.

He wishes he knew the tune’s name, as it’s certainly deserving of one. He rubs a thumb over the windowsill (collecting some dust in the process) and thinks how if Reginald were here, if they were kids, they’d be running laps inside all day and partaking in indoor training. Which everyone knows is the worst kind of training.

When Vanya speeds up, he imagines the snowflakes flitting more aggressively are just dancing to her music. When she goes from loud to quiet, his eyes follow the snowflakes’ trail down to the piles below. _Must be some soft powder_ , he muses to himself.

And then, an idea. He’s down the hallway before his mind really catches up to his feet, and he’s standing in Vanya’s doorway. She’s lost in her own world, eyes flicking between her sheet music and the strings, and sometimes staying closed for a few moments.

Her playing stops when Diego gives a light knock on the doorframe, and he regrets it almost immediately when the music is gone.

“Diego,” Vanya greets, back to being unsure of herself. She gently sets her violin on its stand, and looks at him expectantly.

“Hey,” He says, then covering as much eagerness as he can, “Do you wanna go on a walk?”

Vanya’s brow furrows. “A walk?” She glances out her window. “Diego, it’s like twenty degrees outside.”

“Not a walk,” he amends, “Just...outside.”

She’s looking at him in the same confused way, so he continues. “Down below the fire escape. They haven’t salted the alleyways or anything yet, so it’s still snowy. It’s gotta be enough for at least three snowmen.”

“Snowmen?” Vanya can’t suppress a smile. “You...want me to build a snowman with you?”

Diego is leaning over analytically now, peering out the window. “Maybe an igloo, if the snow keeps up. It’s the most there’s been in years, y’know.”

Vanya’s smile falters a bit. 

“What is this, a prank?” She asks with the same lighthearted tone as before, but it’s a weak facade for the actual concern present.

And shit, if Diego doesn’t blame her for asking. He settles on mock offense and saying, “Snowman-building is a serious business. Are you in, or not?”

And the “or not” isn’t really an option, because there’s a glint in his eyes behind the exaggerated game face and they’ve never played in the snow before and Vanya is tired of always listening to the anxiety inside her head. 

“Yeah,” she nods with a grin, “Yeah, let me get my coat.”

“And gloves,” Diego calls on his way out of the room, leaving to do the same. “You can’t get frostbite during our snowball fight.”

“Snowball fight?!” Vanya calls back. “Diego, that’s not fair! You have perfect aim!”

“You’re on my _team_ , V!” is his only reply before he’s out of earshot. Vanya’s relieved for herself, but terrified for whichever unsuspecting siblings Diego is about to round up.

As it turns out, Klaus and Allison are getting their boots on when Vanya comes downstairs. Diego makes a shushing motion with his lips and ushers her out the back door.

Vanya is shown to a snow mound besides the dumpster, holding up a large pyramid of perfectly-sculpted snowballs. Diego’s got the same determined smirk on his face and Vanya can’t help but feel the mischievous excitement he’s radiating.

“You made all these just now?” She asks with a grin, picking one up with her gloved hand.

“I told you, this is serious shit.” He responds, arming himself with one in each hand. There’s the creak of the back door opening, and then Diego commanding, “Get down.”

Vanya does so, and she has to suppress another laugh as Allison and Klaus _actually_ look dumbfounded as to where they are. Diego mouths to her, “ _Three, two, one_ ,” and they both dart up and strike their victims. 

Klaus is the first to whirl around, snow plastered in his already questionable hair with an indignant, “Hey!”

Allison has a similar, offended expression on her face as she dusts snow off from her jacket. Then, she fixes a glare on the two offenders behind the dumpster. “Oh, it’s _on._ ”

She darts down to the ground besides Klaus, who is already gathering up snow. Vanya and Diego turn to each other and share a laugh, eyes crinkling with mischief. Then it’s back to pelting their opponents, and ducking from Allison’s surprisingly good throws.

The pile inevitably runs low after a few minutes, and Diego turns to his teammate with his signature, dead-serious determination. “I’m going in. Cover me.”

Vanya can barely get out a mock-concerned “Diego!” before her brother is dive-rolling out from behind the dumpster, getting dirty snow all over his face. He’s undeterred, back on his feet like the professional combater he is, until there comes a rather effeminate war cry to his right. Klaus is upon him like a scrawny hurricane, and the two are both on the ground tussling in seconds.

Vanya’s amusement is cut short by a cold, wet impact to her face. Allison stands a few feet ahead, snowballs piled in her arms as she begins to bolt towards the now unprotected enemy base.  
  


The smaller sister can’t suppress a yelp as she moves out from behind the dumpster, now in the no-man’s land of the alley beside her wrestling brothers. Another snowball narrowly misses her, hitting the ground next to her running feet.

Vanya kneels to the ground and quickly scoops up some of the remaining snow, taking a hit to her side as she does so. She sculpts the snowball as quickly as possible, then surprises herself by dodging the next two of Allison’s to throw her own. It hits her sister square on her back, buying Vanya more time to gather up ammo.

Diego has freed himself from Klaus now, though not without becoming soaking wet, and rushes to her aid.

The fight comes to an end when the snowfall has halted and Diego “accidentally” pelts Klaus with a handful of icy slush. In the face.

“Shit, you okay?” Diego asks through a laugh. He pushes past Allison, who is covering her mouth in half-surprise and half-laughter.

Klaus rubs the sludge from his face and blinks his eyes a few times, revealing his wet eyelashes and smudged eyeliner. “I’m fine, but my _makeup_ isn’t.” He replies with a glare. 

“I think we should stop, for Klaus’s sake.” Vanya voices, setting down her last sad-looking snowball on the ground. She’s grinning in amusement at her brother, with his snow-soaked curls sticking up in every direction and his mussed eye makeup resembling a raccoon’s.   
  


“Wh- Me?!” Klaus sputters, “Look at Diego!”  
  


Their other brother looks similarly disgruntled, water and sweat dripping down from his forehead and his coat dusted in snow powder.   
  


“Diego always looks like that,” Allison quips, garnering another chuckle from Vanya.   
  


Diego scoffs and runs a hand through his hair. “I look cool like this. You’re just jealous because your team lost.”  
  


“Yeah, right.” Allison sits on the stoop of the academy’s back door and wrings out her damp hair. “It doesn’t count if you had a head start.”  
  


“Or a throwing super-power,” Klaus points out indignantly.  
  


“Sounds like a you problem.” Diego uses his teeth to pull off one glove, then the freed hand to pull off the other. Evidently, snow had crept into his gloves and he starts to blow on his hands for warmth.  
  


“I thought you said snowmen,” Vanya remarks. She stands a bit apart from the other three, hands hanging with nothing to do, but she’s not hunched over or quiet. She’s smiling.  
  


“Yeah, _Diego_.” Klaus accuses.  
  


“You can still make a snowman.” Diego tucks his gloves under his armpit and gestures at the ground.  
  


“It’s too melted now,” the other brother replies mournfully.  
  


“Klaus is right,” says Allison, “Not all of us like to play in muddy water.” She gives Diego’s appearance another judgmental once-over.  
  


Diego takes a good moment to think of a comeback, settling on “You too afraid to ruin your manicure?”  
  


“Ooh, burn,” Allison replies in stride, grinning as she stands up. “I’m gonna go make cocoa. You guys want some?”  
  


Her question is immediately met with a chorus of “Duh”, “Finally”, and “Yes, please”. She rolls her eyes fondly and heads back inside, presumably to the kitchen.  
  


Klaus is fruitlessly attempting to smooth his hair out while Diego begins unlacing his boots on the back doorstep.  
  


As if on cue, Allison calls from inside, “Don’t forget to take your shoes off!”  
  


“Got it!” Vanya yells back, before Diego can reply with something more sarcastic. She turns to her glaring brother and snorts, “She is _such_ a mom.”  
  


“Uh-huh,” Diego murmurs. He finishes getting his other boot off and steps inside, holding the door open for Vanya behind him. She slips off her own boots and leaves them on the doormat, then heads to the nearest mirror.  
  


Her beanie is soaking wet, and pulling it off reveals a frizzy and somewhat wet ponytail. She smiles at her rather absurd look, freeing her hair of the ponytail and sliding off her coat. She hangs both beanie and coat on the lavish wooden coat hanger in the front hall.   
  


_Dad must be rolling in his grave_ , Vanya thinks. _And not just because I’m using his fancy furniture_.  
  


She turns accordingly to where Diego was, but he’s already raced downstairs to the kitchen. Completely expected, considering how one-minded Diego is when it comes to chocolate. She passes Klaus on her way downstairs, toweling off his eyeliner in the first-floor bathroom mirror.   
  


She chuckles at the sight, earning herself a half-hearted “Fuck you,” in reply.  
  


When she arrives in the basement, Allison is pouring steaming water into four mugs in front of her.  
  


Diego has broken out a bag of Donettes from the cabinets.  
  


“Hey,” he greets as she approaches the counter.  
  


“Vanya, will you get the marshmallows?” Allison asks.  
  


Vanya nods, while Diego shoots Allison a questioning look.   
  


“Why don’t you get ‘em yourself? They’re right there,” he asks through a mouthful of donut.  
  


“Diego, you better watch yourself,” Allison replies without looking up, sounding hardly as menacing as her words implied.  
  


The unmistakable sound of Klaus traipsing down the stairs interrupts them, and they’re soon joined by a (slightly) less-disastrous looking Number Four.  
  


“Hey, Vanya?” Diego pipes up, as Klaus ransacks the fridge for a can of whipped cream.  
  


She looks up from adding marshmallows to her cup, with still-frizzy hair falling in her face.   
  


Diego stares at the counter for a moment, trying to think of how to word any of the thoughts tangled up in his brain. Something like an apology, or maybe just something about how much he wishes there were more memories of them together for him to miss, the way he misses Ben and Klaus coming to him late at night. Something about how he’s proud of her? Something like _I love you_ , if they were a normal family who said things like that.   
  


“You’re awesome at violin,” he settles on. And he means it, and he also means _I’m proud of you,_ and _I wish I could’ve cheered you on more_.  
  


“Yeah, no shit.” Klaus interjects. He’s squirted the last of the whipped cream into his mug and meets Diego’s glare with a milk moustache’d grin.  
  


“Understatement of the year,” Allison agrees teasingly.  
  


“Thank you, Diego,” Vanya replies nonetheless, and she finds herself smiling genuinely for the umpteenth time that day.   
  


There’s a small pause, and she hopes Diego realizes she also means it for the morning too, and for his small efforts to make up for what Reginald took away. She turns her attention back to the remaining mugs. “You want marshmallows in yours?”  
  


Diego clears his throat, because maybe he teared up for a second over two stupid sentences. A wave of relief comes over him, though, and he feels his shoulders relax. Then it’s back to his normal, gruff exterior. He replies with the utmost seriousness, “Is that even a question?” and scoffs.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I really wanted to write about these two; Diego's disdain towards Vanya has always seemed like a facade for more complicated trauma to me. I know commenting is kind of a pain, but if you could let me know what you thought of the piece I'd be eternally grateful!


End file.
